


Tiny Fires

by Bluebox_Parchment



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas' Deal with the Empty, Castiel Makes a Deal with The Shadow (Supernatural), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, M/M, Season/Series 15 Speculation, The Empty (Supernatural), all hurt and no comfort, like so much i had to stop writing for a while, look i am not proud of this, look if you don't want to be sad then don't read this please, please know that i hurt myself whilst writing this, speculation for 15x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26196400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebox_Parchment/pseuds/Bluebox_Parchment
Summary: The Empty comes to collect.Speculation on 15x18 based on that promo.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	Tiny Fires

**Author's Note:**

> And our Tiny fires, I swear they’ll burn some day.  
> And I want them wild and in some place it never rains.  
> ‘Cause We belong, Deep inside the blaze,  
> Just like we did back in our early days.  
> \- Tiny Fires, Toby Johnson

There’s a moment of stillness in the aftermath. The sky isn’t falling, the world keeps on turning, and Dean’s still breathing. 

Cas smiles so widely it crinkles the corners of his eyes and Dean thinks it might just be the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. It doesn’t matter how long he has left of this life, he’s going to spend every second trying to see that smile again. ‘That wasn’t really how I expected to tell you,’ he says, his face warm. His skin prickles with leftover anticipation, a thrum of adrenalin still pulsing in his chest. 

‘No,’ Cas says softly, the word coated with awe. ‘It wasn’t how I expected this to happen either.’ He takes a tentative step forward into Dean’s personal space. Once upon a time, Dean would’ve made a comment to deflect, repress, but now he mirrors the movement, never once taking his eyes from Cas’. 

‘Hey, Cas,’ he says, less than an inch away. He can feel Cas’ breath ghosting his cheeks, can’t stop flicking his gaze down to Cas’ mouth. It’s like gravity, being near Cas. Like being caught in the orbit of a sun. 

‘Hello, Dean.’ 

Dean’s breath catches in his throat, heart pounding like a bass in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. His fingers tingle, desperate to reach out, to touch, to pull Castiel towards him, close the space between them and finally -  _ finally  _ \- kiss him; give in to ten years of desire, of want and  _ need _ . 

Cas’ eyelids flutter closed. Dean could count the lashes and think’s wildly that perhaps now he’ll be allowed to.

His lips ghost against Cas’. He’s not sure which of them finally closes the space but really, it doesn’t matter. 

Behind him, there’s a subtle ripple in the atmosphere. Someone coughs. 

His heart plummets into his gut, acid corroding at the soft flesh of it. Because of course, one simple moment of happiness is never allowed to last.

‘Am I interrupting something?’ 

Cas’ eyes are wide and fearful. Dean’s palms sweat at the sight.

Dean turns, firmly plants himself between Cas and whatever is putting that look on his face. ‘The hell are you?’ he demands to know, even though he already has a shrewd idea. The thing cocks its head to the side, seeking out Cas’ face. It’s human in shape; more the suggestion of a body than anything physical. And it’s not really anything in particular, moreso the absence of matter torn into the fabric of the doorway. On instinct, he reaches a hand backwards until it tightens on Cas’ wrist.

‘We had a deal,’ Cas says, resigned, defeated, and Dean’s heart shatters in his chest.

The Empty laughs.

He spins back around, eyes roving Cas’ face desperate for an answer to a question he can never ask. 

‘We did,’ The Empty says. Its voice is as soft as a whisper but sets Dean’s spine on edge like each word was shouted. ‘And now I’ve come to collect.’

‘Cas-’

‘I’m not happy,’ Cas says. ‘God is still out there, ready to kill us all.’

‘But those weren’t the terms,’ The Empty says. ‘I think you’ll find the terms were that I would come for you when you gave yourself  _ permission _ to be happy.’ The place where its mouth would be if it had one twists into a parody of a grin. The way it relishes in its words turns Dean’s stomach. ‘And Dean here? He’s just unlocked that last little delicious bit of hope and joy in you.’

It takes a step forward. Dean pushes Cas back.

‘I told you, Castiel. I know who you love and I know what you fear.’

Dean ignores The Empty, ignores the relish with which it speaks. ‘I won’t let you,’ he tells the nothingness.

It laughs. ‘Let me?’ It turns what should be dark eyes but is only a swirl of formless smoke onto him. It’s a chilling gaze, full of vehement anger and cruel mirth. 

Dean sets his jaw, squares his shoulders. ‘We’ve faced off against worse than you before and come out on top.’

It takes another formless step into the room, slowly solidifying into something more concrete, solid. ‘There  _ is _ nothing like me,’ The Empty says. ‘Before there was your God, your Darkness, your Death… there was only ever me. Everything comes from me,’ It says, ‘and everything -  _ everything _ \- returns to me. Your angel isn’t any exception.’

With more bravado than he feels Dean steps forwards. ‘Yes he is.’ And he knows in the core of him, that he’s right. He’s seen this play out five times already and five times, against all odds, Cas has come back to him. Even the last time, the ghostly memory of the weight of Cas’ lifeless body in his arms, the smell of the funeral pyre, the ashen wings burnt into the ground… even then, Cas had come back to him. 

‘I made a deal, Dean,’ Cas says softly behind him. The Empty grins with malice.

He turns on his heel, back to Cas and it feels like a punch to the gut. Cas’ eyes brim with tears, a sight Dean’s never seen before, has never wanted to see. ‘Unmake it!’ he shouts, grabbing the front of Cas’ trenchcoat. His own tears start spilling then. ‘Unmake it, Cas,  _ please _ .’ He takes a shuddering breath. ‘We can fight this.’

‘You fought for this whole world.’ There’s so much wonder behind those tears. ‘And I love you for that. But I won’t let you sacrifice the whole world for me.’

‘Cas,  _ please _ .’

‘Know that I wouldn’t change a second. Know that it has been an honour to know you.’ A single tear slips down Cas’ cheek. Dean watches the track it makes, wishes he could reach out and swipe it away with the pad of his thumb. ‘It has been an honour to love you.’ His voice breaks. ‘An honour to have been loved by you.’

‘ _ Cas _ -’ 

But Cas carefully unhooks Dean’s fingers from the fabric of his trenchcoat. ‘It’s okay.’ And though he doesn’t need to breathe, he takes a shuddering breath. So human. ‘It’s going to be okay.’ For the briefest of seconds, his hand cups the side of Dean’s face, gentle, warm, solid,  _ real _ , then it’s gone and Cas is stepping away. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Cas, please.  _ Please _ . I can’t do this again. Cas-’

‘Goodbye, Dean.’

The words hit deeper than expected, cut him right down to the bone. He thought he knew pain, had been subjected to all manner of torture under Alistair’s knife. But nothing that white eyed bastard had ever done came close to this.

Cas steps towards The Empty, away from Dean, and in a ripple of atmosphere his tearstained face, those beautiful blue eyes, are gone.

~*~

Sam slams his fists against Dean’s bedroom door. There’s an unsettling feeling lancing up his spine, something he can only decipher as  _ wrong  _ is behind that door, locked in with his brother and Cas. His heart pounds like he’s running, and his voice tears at his throat as he screams their names.

And then the door swings open, bouncing on its hinges and he stumbles over the threshold, momentarily thrown off balance. 

Dean is on his knees. His face is wet, his eyes are wide, unfocused, lifeless. If it weren't for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, Sam wouldn’t even be sure if he was still breathing. That wrong feeling in his bones has gone, but his eyes sweep the room, hunting for the threat. Nothing. 

He crouches down in front of Dean, anxiety knotting his stomach, pushing bile to the back of his throat. ‘Dean.’ He’s surprised to find his voice is nothing but a whisper, but his brother flinches like he’s still shouting. He reaches a cautious hand out, like he’s reaching for a wild animal and not his brother. ‘Dean, where’s Cas?’

More tears spill out of Dean’s eyes. Sam wonders if he’s even aware of them falling. He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head. 

‘What happened?’ he asks, terrified now. His eyes roam the room again, looking - though he’s loath to admit it - for the ghost of wings scorched into the drywall. 

‘He- he-’ Sam has never heard Dean’s voice sound like this. Small, scared, shamed. ‘He m-made a deal.’

A chill passes over Sam like a blanket of ice, like walking through a ghost. Like the Cage with Lucifer. ‘With who? What for?’ And he knows the kind thing right now would be to wrap his brother in his arms and let him cry rather than force him to answer questions that tear him to shreds.

‘The Empty.’ And though the words seem to cause him physical pain, they spill from his mouth as freely as the tears on his cheeks, ‘It- it took him be-because he gave himself permission to be - to be happy.’ Dean’s eyes seek out Sam’s, grief and guilt cloaked in green. ‘I told him, Sammy. I told him and then it came for him and now he’s gone.’

‘Dean-’ and he doesn’t want to hear this, he doesn’t want Dean to have to admit it to him. He would give anything for Dean not to be going through this.

‘I told him that I loved him. I finally said it. I- I made him happy and-’ but the words are lost, the tears too strong to speak through any longer.

Sam wraps his arms around his brother, holds him through the wracked sobs, and cries. 

**Author's Note:**

> When I say that I made myself cry, please know I am being 100% sincere. I've not written anything in ages and then that 30 second promo and -gesticulates wildly-  
> I needed a way of preparing myself for what's about to come.


End file.
